Above and Beyond Friendship
by Beeswax
Summary: Not happy with Chapter 8, but it's what I've got. We'll see
1. The Situation

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. There may be more chapters if it goes over well. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. 

While I have already published this story once before, I have significantly edited, added and changed it so that it is something very different, though the point/outcome is the same. I have also changed it to reflect the additional information of the rest of season one.

Oh, and about the theory on the reasons for Vulcan women to have such a pronounced sense of smell. I don't know if that is a new idea or if it has been suggested before, but it seemed original to me at the time.

****

THE PRICE OF FRIENDSHIP

__

By Beeswax

Trip fought the sleep that clouded his brain. He needed to think about what had happened and what it meant. T'Pol shifted slightly next to him and he stared down at her delicate fingers splayed across his chest. The face that usually looked so pinched and stern had softened in sleep. It was the first time she had ever looked peaceful. He was tempted to touch her face, but decided against it. He didn't want to wake her up. He tucked his right hand under his head and tried to make his body relax. 

This was not how he had planned it. First of all, this was supposed to happen later, like toward the end of her tour or his, not at the beginning. This was all wrong and Trip knew it was going to create all kinds of complications. Sex always did. Worse, Trip had a sick feeling that in the morning everything would go right back to the way it was, only nothing would be right. 

The sharp pain in his left shoulder had been reduced to a dull ache, but moving still hurt. T'Pol stirred in her sleep and rolled over, tucking into his side and sending a spasm of pain shooting up his neck from the socket, but he didn't move her. At last sheer exhaustion won over everything else and he slept dreamlessly until morning. 

When he woke, she was gone.

***************************16 Hours Earlier************************

"I mean it, Cap'n. I won't work with her again. She is too damn 'logical' or somethin'! Makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it!"

"Trip, I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"Cap'n, I'm serious, I can't vouch for her personal safety if you stick me in a shuttle pod alone with her again anytime soon. I don't care if she is a woman, much less a Vulcan, I 'll…. I'll… well I'll do somethin' drastic, that's fer sure! Three more days in a shuttle with her, that eyebrow and that sniff of hers and you would have been short at least one officer!"

Archer hid his smile behind a forkful of meatloaf, because he knew his engineer wasn't trying to be funny. As of late Jon had found himself frequently putting his science officer and chief engineer together on assignments just because they seemed to have such a good time irritating each other. The meals immediately following the joint assignments were something to look forward to. He looked up as Doctor Phlox entered the small private dining room.

"Sorry I'm late, Captain. I had a small medical emergency to attend to."

Trip looked up in concern, "Gee, Doc, I hope everyone's okay."

Archer jumped in too. "Anything I need to know about, Doctor?"

"Oh no, Captain, it is a rather personal matter. Besides, the condition is easily remedied."

Jon changed the subject before Trip's curiosity could be engaged. "Trip here was just filling me in on the details of our last away mission to that planetoid rubble we passed. We have a similar ring of debris in our own solar system. Many people think it was also once a planet."

"Why yes, T'Pol told me that Commander Tucker and herself were able to collect quite a few samples of some interesting dilithium isotopes. She seemed to feel they could be of some real scientific value."

"Now just hold on a second, Doc, are you sayin' Little Miss High and Pointy sounded enthusiastic about somethin'?"

Phlox gave Trip a rather confused look at the reference to Sub-Commander T'Pol.

"I think what Trip meant, Doctor," Archer added hastily, "Is that it is rare for humans to find something the Vulcans find of any interest, much less of actual value."

Phlox gave the Captain a look that indicated that Jon's statement was only slightly less judgmental than Trip's. But, before the Doctor could comment Trip pushed himself away from the table with a determined shove.

"Yeah, Cap'n, that's exactly what I meant. 'Scuse me." 

Trip threw down his napkin and stalked out of the dinning room. As the door shut behind Trip, Archer let the chuckle he was holding bubble to the surface. The previous comment forgotten, the Doctor's eyes held a bit of sparkle themselves.

"You know, Captain, I really don't think Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol like each other very much. They seem to go out of their way to antagonize each other. But then, other times I really wonder if maybe…"

Archer cut him off with another chuckle as he shook his head.

"Don't try to figure it out, Doctor. Just let it be. Just let it be."

Two crewmen quickly got out of the way as Commander Tucker thundered down the hall on C deck. Trip wasn't stupid. He knew Archer had been laughing at him and he knew why. It was bad enough T'Pol got under his skin, he didn't see why other people, much less his best friend, had to find it so damn amusing. 

He bustled past sickbay on his way to his quarters. 

"Commander Tucker." Trip felt his stomach clench. He willed it to relax.

"Sub Commander T'Pol." He said coolly as he kept right on walking. Maybe she was just trying to be polite. She reached out her hand, palm up to indicate her desire for him to stop.

"Commander Tucker, may I have a word with you?"

"Can it wait until tomorrow, Sub Commander, I'm kinda beat right now."

There was an odd strained pause, "Maybe I could walk with you?" And then even stranger, she added, "Please?"

Trip squinted at the Vulcan and pursed his lips slightly before answering.

"All right," He stepped to the side and held out his arm, bowing slightly, "after you." 

T'Pol regarded him for a second more before falling in next to him. They walked together in silence for a few moments. By then they were outside his door. Trip waited expectantly, his hand on the door pad, but T'Pol still said nothing. Trip sighed audibly.

"Well, it's been nice talkin' to ya'. Good night." The door was almost shut when she finally spoke.

"May I come in?" 

Turning back quickly, Trip reached over and caught the door. "I beg yer pardon?"

"May I come in?" There was an oddly poignant quality about the way she stood there, her face expressionless, but her eyes pleading him to allow her this access. Trip stepped back from the door.

"Come in." An awkward silence settled over the small room. T'Pol looked around the room with a cool assessing air. Trip almost apologized for the jumbled nature of it, but stopped himself at the last second. 

Trip's room was an odd juxtaposition of order and chaos. His bed was neatly made and his desk was organized and clear of clutter. His walls, however, were a riot of pictures from home, children's drawings from his nieces and nephews along with letters and a poster of Marilyn Monroe. She was standing next to a bed in a sheer gown that seemed to meld into the sheets. It almost gave the impression that she really wasn't wearing anything at all. He'd had that poster since he was sixteen when he found it in an old computer archive and had it printed up. On the wall behind his desk he had a schematic of the entire ship, with colored thumbtacks at important junctures. There wasn't a trace of lint or dust anywhere, and yet the room still seemed slightly unclean somehow. 

Trip resisted the urge to show T'Pol how well organized his closets were, how neatly arranged every item was in his drawers. Instead he pulled out a chair for T'Pol and sat down on the bed opposite.

"Have a seat."

"Thank-you."

There was even more awkward silence. T'Pol stared straight ahead at a spot just left of Trip's ear. Trip tried not to look at her either. After a few minutes he gave up.

"Is there something I can do for you T'Pol? I mean, sittin' here is nice and all, but I have an early shift tommora and I need to get some shuteye. So if there's nothin' you wanna t…"

"The Doctor says that I should ask a friend for help on something."

"Uh huh." The skin on Trip's arm just below his cuffed sleeves goose pimpled. "And, like last time, you just need someone to talk to and I already know some personal stuff about you so while I'm not your first choice I'm the…."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. Tucker rolled his eyes, but he got the point. 

"Sorry. Okay, I'm listenin'."

"How familiar are you with Vulcan mating practices?" The gooseflesh on trip's arms spread to the back of his neck.

"Uh, not much really, I mean, well, nothin' at all actually. Are you really sure you wouldn't rather talk to Hoshi or…."

"Vulcan males go into a period of intense sexual arousal once every seven year. Every part of their mental and physical exisitance is focused on mating. Their hormone and adrenaline levels rise and reason shuts down. The only way to resolve the imbalance is with a huge surge of endorphans caused only by sex and mortal combat. If the imbalance is not resolved, the male goes insane and dies." T'Pol took a deep breath and suddenly Trip knew for sure he didn't want to hear the rest of this.

"Huh, well, isn't that interestin'. You learn something new everyday." Trip jumped up from the bed. "I suppose you have to be goin' now. It was real nice talkin' to ya'!"

T'Pol didn't move. "A Vulcan female's sex drive is somewhat different." A slight shiver ran down Trip's back, but that didn't stop him from asking.

"How different?"

T'Pol paused before going on. Trip realized how embarrassing this was for her. He sat back down and tried to look sympathetic.

"A Vulcan female's cycle is reflexive to that of the male. When males enter… it is called Pon Farr, they emit large amounts of pheremones. Any female who were to stay in close contact for a length of time with that male would be induced into a similar cycle by these pheremones. Once she enters a cycle, the symtoms are just as debilitating and eventually fatal as in the male. This is why it is customary for males to be married before the onset of their first cycle."

Trip wasn't sure he saw the connection she was implying, but he made a guess. "And that's why it's usual for a Vulcan couple to live together for the first year, regardless of their occupations?" 

T'Pol's body relaxed just a little, as if she was glad he understood. "Yes, in the process of mating the couple becomes bonded mentally. For the rest of the male's life he will always seek out that female first, above all others, when he is overcome with Pon Farr… unless he conciously chooses to bond with another beforehand."

Trip didn't like where this was going, but it was beginning to make sense. "And what about the woman, once she is bonded is she only effected by the same guy from then on?"

"No, she still needs to be in close contact to activate her own cycle, and close, prolonged contact with another male in Pon Farr can cause her cycle to activate, though as she is not bonded to him she will still seek out her own mate." T'Pol's skin was taking on a greenish cast and Trip began to wonder if talking about this was making her ill. "This is a very personal and private thing, most males simply go home and stay home with their mate before the Pon Farr and would therefore stay away from females who were not their mate."

Trip found that he was oddly flattered that she was willing to discuss this with him, but he still didn't understand why she was.

"So if it's so pers'nal, why are you telling me about it. Besides, there aren't any Vulcan males around here anyway so why would it …." Suddenly Trip was very angry.

"Son of a bitch! It was that damn 'emotional' Vulcan, wasn't it! The Capt'n said he attacked you. Did he…" Then Trip paused, "But that was months ago. It took this long to…."

T'Pol shook her head. "It was the Suliban. When they were," and her voice took on a bitter tone, "interrogating me it appears the drug they used has the same effect as Pon Farr pheremones; presumably to break my mental control. Dr. Phlox is not sure what it was. There is no record of it in the Vulcan medical banks." 

Rage swelled in Trip again, this time aimed at the Suliban and the pain he could only imagine they inflicted on T'Pol during her "interogation." Then, it dawned on Trip what T'Pol was about to ask.

"So what you're sayin' is that they triggered this drive in you? And if you don't 'resolve' it, you'll die?"

"It appears so." 

While Trip had fantasized about just such an occasion once or twice (not that he would ever admit it) the unspoken question sent him into a state of panic. He began looking for other options.

"What about the combat option? Could that work for you? I'm pretty good at Tae Kwon Do and…"

"Being a Vulcan and therefore significantly stronger than humans, there is a good chance I could kill you, or anyone else on this vessel in true one on one, hand to hand combat."

"What's to say that any 'other kind' of contact wouldn't kill me then, if yer so much stronger?"

"As it is not combat, we, I could be careful."

"You really want to do this with me? Isn't there anyone else?"

"This environment and situation creates many complicated problems in the chain of command. We are of essentially the same rank, so that should not create occupational conflict. You already know some of my circumstances anyway, and," The logical voice began to crack and Trip realized how hard it was for her to hold it together. "Please understand, this is humiliating enough as it is to discuss, much less ask for help. Please do not force me to have to go through this again with someone else."

"What about the, whadya callit… mental bond? Could you get pregnant?" He was grasping at straws and he knew it. His last words were barely audiable. "Interspecies relations?"

T'Pol stood up. "With some minor precautions the first two can be avoided and the third is completely irrelevant. You obviously find the whole idea as distasteful as I do. I am sorry I brought it up." She turned her head so Trip couldn't see her face, but Trip heard the catch in her voice. What little resistance he had left at that point was gone.

Trip stood quickly and pulled her into his arms. He tucked her head under his chin. He knew he had been sunk the minute he let her into the cabin. Even while being embraced she still held her body rigid and straight, but Trip thought he heard a small sigh. He hugged her tighter.

"Tell me what to do."


	2. The Other Half

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. There may be more chapters if it goes over well. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. 

While I have already published this story once before, I have significantly edited, added and changed it so that it is something very different, though the point/outcome is the same. I have also changed it to reflect the additional information of the rest of season one.

Oh, and about the theory on the reasons for Vulcan women to have such a pronounced sense of smell. I don't know if that is a new idea or if it has been suggested before, but it seemed original to me at the time.

****

ABOVE AND BEYOND FREINDSHIP

__

By Beeswax

****

CHAPTER 1.5: The Other Side

T'Pol had always thought the smell of humans unpleasant. Human males were even more offensive than females. However the men on Enterprise all seemed to make a major effort to be and smell "clean." She never was sure if it had anything to do with trying to be kind to her. Quite a few of the men and women wore olfactory enhancers, perfume and cologne they called it. The scents themselves actually seemed to be rather pleasant on the most part, however they wore so much of it that it's sheer power was overwhelming. T'Pol had mentioned it to Ensign Sato on one occasion.

__

"Men on ships usually make an extra effort, for two reasons, I guess. First with everyone in such confined spaces, no one wants to be offensive to anyone, much less you… you are the second in command. Secondly, I think it's because with only half as many women as men on board, the men don't want to take a chance on making a bad impression."

"Sexual relationships between crew members are frowned upon, are they not?"

"There is no way of knowing how long we will be out here. I'm sure, condoned or not, it will happen eventually, if it hasn't already." Hoshi's voice dropped to a whisper and she leaned across the table slightly, "I mean have you seen Crewman Parvell and Crewman Wilson lately?" Then Hoshi had smiled impishly, "Besides, men can always dream." Then she actually giggled slightly and went back to her PADD. T'Pol didn't ask any more questions.

It was when she had begun to find herself aroused while in the gym, surrounded by quite a few men smelling their worst, that she began to grow suspicious that there was a problem. Even with a room full of sweaty Vulcan males, there couldn't have been enough pheromones to even begin to effect her. Human males effecting her were out of the question. She had gone to her quarters, thoroughly washed herself, spent some time meditating and then gone to see Doctor Phlox. 

His preliminary diagnosis was disturbing to say the least.

__

"What do you suggest I do, Doctor?"

"You could ask another officer for help."

"A human would not be a compatible companion, even for such a short time."

"Why is it that humans insist on holding on to their resentment of Vulcans, while Vulcans insist on holding on to their… I believe the word the humans use is arrogance?" Only Doctor Phlox could say something so condescending and yet sound so cheerful. T'Pol shook her head slightly, if she was thinking that way, the situation was worse than she thought.

"They wouldn't understand. Additionally they attach so much value to the act itself that it would severely effect any professional relationship I currently have on this vessel."

"You don't consider any of these people your friends?"

Three of those humans really were her friends. She had developed a genuine respect for Captain Archer over the past year. Ensign Sato had shown real progress in some of her meditation techniques and was always willing to "girl talk" as she called it, though T'Pol would never take her up on that particular offer. Commander Tucker… she knew she thought of him as something more than a colleague, but her mind wasn't exactly ready to deal with what else he might be. Friend was probably the safest term to admit to.

Almost as if he could read her thought, the Doctor added, "Commander Tucker is a fine figure of a human, and he seems attracted to you."

"T'Pol felt her face getting hot, but she managed to control her tone. "Out of the question."

"Have you considered asking him that question?"

"This is not something to be discussed, much less with humans."

"That is not a very enlightened attitude. Besides, you may not have much time left, and the longer you wait, the more violent and uncontrolled your behavior will become. If you decided to chose a human partner you should do it sooner rather than later as their bodies are not as sturdy as yours and could not withstand as much force as a Vulcan partner."

"I will not choose a human partner." T'Pol got off the bio-bed. "Thank-you, doctor. I will let you know if I need your services."

"Sub-Commander, I do understand the situation you find yourself in. Other Vulcans have begun to find you distasteful because of your choice to stay in such close contact with humans. I find it interesting that despite your willingness to work with humans, you still think of humans as being something less than…"

"This is about choosing a sexual partner, not…"

"Sub Commander, consider asking a human for help. If not Commander Tucker, perhaps Captain Archer."

"That is out of the question." She had said that already, wasn't he listening!

"Lieutenant Reed is very discreet."

"He is a junior officer, it would compromise the command structure."

"Commander Tucker is essentially the same rank. You are not truly in his command structure."

This conversation had to end. T'Pol slid quickly off the biobed and headed for the door. "I will take this all under advisement."

Doctor Phlox considered a moment before he added one last thought. 

"Considering the problems with Vulcan in regards to humans and your developing reputation, it may be harder to find a Vulcan male than in the past. If you plan to pursue this matter with a Vulcan how will you find one fast enough? The Captain will have to be notified of any Human to Vulcan communiqués."

"Thank-you for the advice, doctor."

"Come see me in the morning if you want to try hormone therapy. It probably won't work, but _we can try."_

She had spent several days in thought on the subject while they tried the hormone therapy. Then the Captain had given her the away mission. The Doctor had told her it might not be a good idea, but she had been adamant that this wouldn't effect her duties and that the hormone therapy was working. She told the doctor she was too busy for him to run any tests that day, so he had no ability to medically argue with her. 

Spending that time in such close quarters with only Commander Tucker…. Suddenly his odor didn't seem that offensive to her anymore. She found herself daydreaming instead of meditating. There was no one there but them, what if she just went out there and… Human men were very sexual driven… Besides, it could help relieve some of his own tension and that would be helping his efficiency and therefore the crew and the ship and the mission and she really was in trouble if she was rationalizing this. 

She tried to stay away from him, but instead she found herself being as critical as possible of him, belittling him, picking fights even. Only the arguing was even more arousing. As soon as the shuttle docked she went to see the Doctor again. Her levels were becoming dangerous. 

His advice had been the same. Then he gave her a mild tranquilizer to help her relax and left her to go have dinner with the captain. As he reached the door he reminded her again that she was running out of time. She either needed to find a human partner or ask for an emergency transfer home.

She had sat in Sickbay for almost thirty minutes just trying to process it all. Then she had seen Trip in the passage way…

Now as she hurriedly gathered her things in preparation of her exit, T'Pol look down on the sleeping form of Commander Tucker and knew she had made a serious error. This situation was completely out of control. 


	3. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. I published it once before as The Price of Friendship. But I deleted that story and am now rewriting it. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. 

****

Above and Beyond Friendship 

__

By Beeswax

Chapter 2: Aftermath

Trip knew she was gone before he opened his eyes. He kept them closed as he sat up and stretched, wincing as he raised his left arm over his head. The pain forced him to open his eyes. He glanced down at the purplely gray finger-shaped bruises dusted over most of his body.

"And this was being careful?" He shook his head. Then he got up, dressed carefully and dragged himself toward the mess hall.

He hadn't been there a few minutes when the Doctor hailed him to report to sickbay. Trip walked over to the Comm and called down.

"Doc, I'm really busy, can it wait?" Trip knew he needed to have his shoulder looked at, but he didn't feel like answering questions right now. Besides, as long as he kept his hand in his pocket, it didn't hurt that much.

"Just come see me sometime today, please, Commander Tucker."

Most of the crewmen in Engineering instinctively steered clear of Commander Tucker that morning. They could tell something was bothering him. After he yelled at Crewman Deitrich for leaving fingerprints on the viewport of the Engine casings and then barked at Ensign Parker for "thunderin'" up and down the breezeways, there was no doubt there was something seriously wrong. 

Archer could feel the tension like a physical presence all around him as he walked by to see if Trip would like to grab lunch with him. He found Commander Tucker bent over a schematic blueprint in the far corner of Engineering. All the other members of the department were on the opposite side of the space. The engineer jumped and let out an audible cry as his friend and captain laid a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Trip, is something wrong?"

"No sir. Nothin's wrong. Why?"

"You seem a little jumpy."

"Jumpy, sir?"

Archer gave up. "I came by to see if you wanted to grab some lunch. I thought we could go over that engine design modification you've wanted to discuss. Then I could send the proposal to Starfleet by the end of the week."

Usually Trip's eyes would dance with excitement at the mere mention of his current pet project. He had been after Jon for weeks to discuss it. Now it seemed to effect no change in him at all. 

Trip could see the worry on Archer's face. He smiled apologetically. 

"Sorry, Cap'n. Actually, I kinda need to go see the Doc, I think I sorta knocked my shoulder outa whack yesterday and I guess the pain is gett'n to me. Rain Check?"

Archer looked visibly relieved at such a mundane explanation.

"Sure. Maybe later this week. If you're hurt, see the Doc and take the afternoon off. Get some rest." Archer turned and began to leave, but then he turned and looked at his Chief Engineer again. 

"I think I'm going to tell T'Pol to take the day off too. She's been acting oddly ever since the Suliban incident. I thought getting her off the ship for a few days might help, but she's been even more withdrawn since she got back." Jon cocked his head at Trip waiting to see if his friend would volunteer any information. When Trip stayed quiet, Jon probed further.

"Did she behave oddly while you were out? Did she say anything to you on the mission?" Then he stopped again, considering before adding, "Did something happen… on the mission?"

Trip's face became emotionless as he answered. "No sir, nothing happened on the mission." Jon knew that his hunch was right, that there was something going on between his two senior officers, but he also knew Trip wouldn't lie. He was about to ask another question when Trip turned back to his schematic and Jon knew he had pushed too hard. He left quietly. 

Trip may have been looking down at the schematic, but he wasn't seeing anything but red. He wasn't sure who he was angrier with, the Captain, T'Pol, the Suliban or himself. He had seen the look on Jon's face. His friend knew this was about T'Pol and it wouldn't be long till he found out about all of it. The captain always found out when he set his mind to it. Trip figured he probably even knew about T'Pol's cancelled engagement. He would find out about this too.

But he was angrier with T'Pol. Why didn't she just tell the Captain about this herself from the beginning? Trip was sure they could've taken her home with out too much discussion. Then no one would be in this mess. By the same token Trip wanted to go find Silik and disembowel him with the oldest, rustiest, hunting knife in the Tucker family's vacation cabin while the rest of the Suliban watched. Just thinking about the horrible things they did to T'Pol made his blood boil. 

Most of all, though, Trip was angry with himself. T'Pol **had** been acting strangely lately. On the away mission she had gotten agitated on several occasions, visibly agitated. Trip should have known something was up. Besides, if her reason was as compromised as she said, he should have known that she would never have asked for his help in her right mind. He had taken advantage of a colleague in an awkward situation to satisfy his own desires. No wonder she had left in the morning with out even speaking to him. This was all his fault and now nothing was right. 

When he couldn't put the pain off any longer, Trip went to see Dr. Phlox.

"Ah, Commander, I see you've found time for me?"

"I'm here, Doc, whatcha need?"

"Well first, I want to examine you for fractures and/or internal injuries?"

Trip froze, "Why would you need to do that?"

"Well, by most human standards, you just had a rough night and injuries can sometimes go unnoticed until they are life threatening."

"Rough Night? Where the hell did you hear something like that?"

"Sub Commander T'Pol was here this morning to have her bio-chemical levels checked and she indicated that you might have been inadvertently injured last night."

"Is that right?" Trip was going to kill her. But as he thought about it, he found it kinda sweet that she was at least concerned for his well being. "Well, now that you mention it, my shoulder's been killin' me all day."

Trip looked up at the bio scanner image over the scanning tunnel. The doctor seemed almost thrilled to find parallel hairline fractures.

"They aren't too severe really," He pointed to the image, "just here, bisecting your left scapula. I'll give you a sling to use for a few days while I treat it. Just come by in the afternoons when you are finishing up for the day. We should be able to have it completely knitted back up with in five days. If it pains you I can give you a mild pain killer and muscle relaxant to help you sleep." 

Trip wanted to take a memory killer and life relaxant and never wake up.

"That all, Doc?"

The minute he said it he knew he shouldn't have asked, he knew there was going to be more.

"How much do you know about Vulcan females, Commander?"

"More than I did before last night, but still not a whole lot. Truth be told, I get the feeling I don't wanna know much more."

"Yes, I see, well then, have a nice evening, Commander."

Trip's shoulders hunched and he knew he'd been had. He sat back down on the biobed.

"Lay it on me, Doc. Just make it quick and painless."

Dr. Phlox paused for a moment with that same odd look of joy he had worn when he told Trip he was pregnant.

"For Vulcan women, sexuality is a highly personal thing. The only person they can derive comfort and support from is their mate, through the mental bond that this process creates. T'Pol doesn't have a mate, she doesn't even have one of her own people to discuss this with. She is totally alone."

"Doc, you make the problem sound like a long term thing. T'Pol and I did what…she…needed… to… I mean, we took care of the problem. That's all there was to it. She's back to normal and my shoulder will be healed in a week."

"That's not completely true. The eminent danger of her death is over, but there is still more to this whole process for T'Pol."

"And let me guess. I'm the one who has to help her. More late-night visits? What?"

"This is no longer a bio-chemical issue, but an emotional one."

"Doc, are we on the same page here? 'cause last time I heard, Vulcan's don't express emotions. So how can they have emotional problems?"

Doctor Phlox's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Commander, how old were you when you lost your virginity? How was that experience for you, emotionally, physically?"

"That's none of your damn business!"

"Oh, so that is one of those intensely personal, emotional experiences?"

"Make your point, Doc."

"T'Pol just went through an intensely personal, emotional experience. She needs someone to talk to or at least feel close to. Usually that person would be her mate, someone already bonded to her in marriage as well as mentally through both his Pon Farr and hers. Instead, she has no bond, is surrounded by aliens and having gone through all of this under these circumstances is likely to be considered tainted. She may never marry, bond with anyone or have children of her own… all natural results of Pon Farr."

Trip felt like he had taken the sack of a lifetime. "I'm supposed to help her with all that? Damn it Doc, I'm an engineer not a psychologist!" 


	4. Dread

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had.Originally this story was The Price of Friendship. But I erased that one and am reworking it, piece by piece. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. 

****

Above and Beyond Friendship

__

By Beeswax

****

Chapter 3: Dread

Trip looked at his reflection in the mirror and started over.

"So, T'Pol, I was wondering if you might like to join me for a walk up on the observation deck. It's real quiet there after about 2200. We could sit up in the top chamber, maybe even lock the door for some privacy, anyway we could just sit and look at the stars. Not talk much, 'cause when you talk you make me crazy, but we could just sit…. Yep, Tucker, that's emotional support right there!"

The door chimed, interrupting his discussion with himself.

"Come."

T'Pol stood stiffly in the doorway. There was always stiffness about her anyway, Trip thought, but she was even more stiff than usual somehow. 

"You wished to see me, Commander?"

"You know, you can call me Trip, after all we…"

"Are still officers on the same vessel."

"Yeah, we are." Trip took a deep breath. "Look, **Sub-Commander**, Doc says you might need someone to talk to about everything and I just wanted you to know that I'm here anytime you need to, ya know, talk. As a matter of fact, I was thinking we might go up to the ob…."

"Thank you, Commander, but that will not be necessary."

"Well, the offer is always open."

"No, I mean it is not necessary because I am leaving the Enterprise. I contacted the Vulcan High Command this morning. My relief should be here in three days."

Trip fought the odd panic he felt rising in his chest. Something was really wrong here. "Can you tell me why you are leaving?"

"My command capabilities have been compromised. I have had intimate contact with a fellow officer in my command."

"Uh-Huh. That didn't bother you when you asked for my help last night. If that was going to be the issue, why did it matter that we were essentially the same rank and all that?" But even as he said it, he was already beating at himself. This was all his fault. He should have known she would never have asked for his help in her right mind. He should have been looking out for her as a friend and told her 'no.' In front of him, her stiffness intensified in response to his statement. 

"I have had time to rethink my previous decision with out the mental distractions of Pon Farr and I feel now that I was… in error in my choice."

Trip heard the condesension in her voice. His voice was barrely audiable when he spoke again. "You choice of partner or your choice to deal with it here?"

"This conversation is unnecessary." With that T'Pol turned on her heal and walked briskly down the hall. As Trip watched her he felt an odd tickling in his mind, like a stray thought that wouldn't settle. Then he understood. He raced down the hall after T'Pol.

He caught up to her just as she was about to step inside her room. Without waiting for an invitation he shoved in behind her and spun her around to face him as the doors closed behind them.

"You said that you could prevent bonding."

"Commander Tucker, please remove your hand from my arm and leave my quarters."

"Not until you tell me what I just felt in my head!"

"I have no idea what you are referring to."

"The hell you don't. You were embarrassed and a little scared just now back in the hallway, and you are gettin' downright terrified now. I can more than just tell that by your face and actions, I know it beyond any shadow of a doubt. How the hell did you get into my head?"

"Please lower your volume, Commander, most likely there is some minor residual connection that occurred during the intimate contact. It will fade quickly. Especially with my departure."

"This is why yer leavin', isn't it? You've plugged into my head and now your gonna tuck tail and run away? Jesus! You people take the cake ev'ry time." 

T'Pol's eyes narrowed briefly before she spoke.

"I regret any discomfort you may be feeling because of our… encounter." Her voice had begun to soften. Trip cocked his head as she took a big breath. Then she seemed to shake herself slightly and her normal monotone returned. 

"Having never been in intamite contact before, I found it significantly harder to separate myself than I had initially anticipated. I regret that a bond may have been initiated, however I am confidant that once I am no longer immediately present the bond will quickly fade and we will no longer sense each other. Things will be as they were."

Trip's head began to whirl with all the implications of everything T'Pol had just told him. He sat down hard on the edge of her bed.

"First time? You mean you had never… You were a … That was your first time? You didn't tell me that."

"It was irrelevant to the situation." T'Pol sat at the desk next to him.

"The hell it was. I had a right to know. I mean, I knew you had never been married, but… You, Vulcans I mean, don't have… casual… relationships? I mean I may not have figured out the exact yea ryet, but you must be at least 50 years old. And you never…"

"No. We do not attach the same emotional value to intercourse that humans insist on. Conversely, we do not engage in it casually either, and normally only when we are driven by Pon Farr or desire children. We are instructed in the art of pleasure as part of a precurser to marriage, as marriage does need to be consumated as part of the bonding process. Most Vulcans have only one or occasionally two sexual partners during their lifetime." T'Pol kept her eyes on the wall behind him as she spoke. Trip noted that she was turning green again. He couldn't deside whether to hold her, hit her or kiss her. He decided not to focus on that last thought.

"Damn it, T'Pol. I really just thought I was helping out a… fellow officer… I mean… a lady in trouble… ah, hell, a friend even. I never intended to get roped into the bizarre world of Vulcan Mating Rituals. It figures you guys would make something that's supposed to be fun really complicated." He covered his face with his un-slinged hand for a moment, sqeezing his temples slightly. It didn't relive the pressure that had formed. Then he looked over at her siting ramrod straight in the chair, her spine not even touching the back of the chair. That poignancy that she had worn outside his door the night before when she asked if she could come in had returned, making her look almost frail and rather lost. Something else was nagging at him though. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

Her voice penetrated his concentration. "I do not need your pity, Commander. I am not a little puppy or a lost kitten. Please do not characterize me that way."

Trip jumped at her awareness of his mental comparisons. He vaulted off the bed and faced her.

"The last time an alien woman read my mind, Sub-Commander, I ended up pregnant. So I don't take kindly to that kind of intrusion anymore. Get the hell out of my head!"

"I will be gone in three days."

"Good. Bon Voyage!"

Trip stormed out of the room knowing that this wasn't anywhere near over.


	5. Disturbed

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. Originally this story was The Price of Friendship. But I erased that one and am reworking it, piece by piece. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. So far, while there have been some changes to the story, it still runs pretty congruent to the original. Now, on the whole I had to throw everything out, except for some chunks of dialog. I ended up changing a lot and rewriting a lot. But one of the first rules of revision is "Kill all your darlings." Happy Reading.

****

ABOVE AND BEYOND FRIENDSHIP

__

By Beeswax

Chapter 4: Disturbed

__

"You know I do have a couple of degrees in Engineering and some of the most advance training in Starfleet. There was a reason that I was chosen for this tour. I happen to be one of the best. Therefore, I find it real insultin' when you constantly go back over every single one of my repair jobs like I'm a high-school drop-out who shouldn't be allowed near a hydrospanner!"

"I was merely double checking your work as a precaution. My actions in no way imply a presumption of incompetence on your part. There is no reason to raise your level of volume."

"I don't care if you out rank me or not. I want you out of Engineering. Go bother the science department, Phlox or, hell, even the Cap'n. But leave me and my people and our work, alone!"

For a split second T'Pol had actually looked hurt during that exchange. 'Course when it came to hurt, the thing that really came to mind was the lecture the Captain gave him later that day.

__

"Damn it, Trip, I don't care what your personal feeling are about Vulcans or the Sub-Commander, I can't have my two most senior officers having shouting matches in the middle of my ship."

"I'm sorry for yellin' Cap'n, but she keeps comin' in here all condescend'n and snooty and starts quizin' my people and pullin' out all the repair logs and then she wants me to take her into the Jeffrey's tubes so that she can see the repairs. My people have been through enough with the Suliban and this diagnostic as it is. If I'da done somethin' wrong to begin with, I'd kinda understand, but we are up to specs if not exceeding them in all zones. Why's she poken' around down here?"

"The executive officer is supposed to report to me on all repairs and the diagnostic. She may have been a little over thorough, but she was just doing her job. She's under a lot of stress too, you know. Do you have any idea what she went through on that Suliban ship?"

"No."

"Neither do I, because she won't tell us. It couldn't have been fun."

"No sir, I guess it probably wasn't."

"Both of you need a break."

"We all do, sir."

"Well, I found an opportunity for you two for right now. You interested?"

Trip crossed his arms and cocked his head.

"Does it involve a dessert?"

Archer laughed and shook his head.

"Deep space. Just you, T'Pol and a Shuttlepod Two for three days. I need someone to survey that asteroid belt we just passed. It will take three days, there and back, but it is only about 8 hours work when you get there. Lots of time to just decompress."

"With T'Pol?"

"She's the most qualified" Jon sighed, "Look I know that neither of you is the other's favorite person, but this is the best I can do for you two for a vacation. Hoshi is supposed to work on a language database of all the new languages we've encountered. Travis is testing the new engine in Shuttlepod One for a few days, and I sent Malcolm with him to work on a new variance of the phase cannon. Phlox is taking another crack at hibernation for two days. Everyone else is being reduced to light duty while we cruise this sector. This is the best way for me to give you guys a break. So are you going to take it or not?"

Trip sighed. "I'll take it."

Jon smiled. "Good. You leave in the morning, 0700 hours. Don't be late. T'Pol's liable to leave with out you."

The memory was so clear, it was almost like watching a movie. Trip smile softly in his sleep. He had appreciated his friend's effort. Archer had been trying to give everyone in the command crew a chance to take it easy. It must have been difficult for him to orchestrate all of these different mini assignments, so that everyone could have a few days of peace and light duty. It was a shame he couldn't do the same for himself, but then a captain never really can go off duty. 

But what could the captain possibly be thinking by putting Commander Charles Tucker the III in a small space with Sub Commander T'Pol the Obnoxious! 

He got there at 0630. She had already been there an hour. Shuttlepod Two was designed to be a mobile space lab of sorts. It was about three times the size of Shuttlepod One and significantly roomier. It had a large main cabin below and two smaller adjoining rear cabins above. One room was the working lab space that also contained two bunks along one wall; the other was a small berthing space with four bunks and a small bathroom complete with a narrow sonic shower. 

__

"I took the liberty of doing the preflight check. We can depart as soon as you are ready. We have clearance. "

"Ain't that efficient of you."

They worked in silence for a few moments, stowing the last of the gear inside the pod. As soon as they were clear of the ship and on their way, Trip turned to his co-pilot.

"I can fly her for a while. Why don't you go read or meditate or whatever it is you do for relaxation."

"That is not necessary. I wish to get to work on the asteroid survey. We already have some data from our initial scan."

"Well, couldn't ya do that back in the lab?"

"Do you want me to leave the cabin, Commander?" She did that eyebrow thing that irritated him so much 

"No ma'am. I would never be that impert'nent to a superior."

"You want me to leave." This time it was not a question. She didn't wait for a response she simply got out of the chair and moved to the back. Trip heard the door slide open and then close again behind her as she left. He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet on the seat opposite and pulled a small device out of his pocket. He punched a couple of buttons and the cabin filled with guitar and fiddle music. Trip set the player down on the console and felt his body begin to relax. He loosened his collar a bit and got down to the serious business of taking a break.

Trip knew that the peaceful moment had been short lived. T'Pol had come back and gotten all huffy about his casual manner. It appeared that the Captain hadn't mentioned to her that this trip was supposed to be a break of sorts, a reward even for all the hard work and the stress of command duties. Trip was sure she didn't because the next hour was anything but peaceful as they ended up launching into a full out argument. Only this time there was no crew to distract them, no captain to break it up and no meal to hide behind. Even though he was asleep, Trip's body braced itself for this part of the memory. Only what Trip saw wasn't what he remembered.

__

Trip was so into the music and the view before him that he didn't hear T'Pol return. She startled him by softly laying her hand on his shoulder. Trip couldn't remember a time when the Vulcan had initiated any kind of casual physical contact with anyone, but especially him. He quickly reached over and turned off the player.

"Commander, would you be so kind as to assist me in the lab for a moment. The Shuttle can pilot itself for the duration of the voyage if necessary." Her voice dropped and octave, "I programmed it myself."

Trip felt himself being gently drawn from his chair. T'Pol's hand slid down his shoulder and rested gently in his.

When they entered the lab space, the room was softly lit with several candles. The lower bunk had been made with crimson sheets and several large pillows. The lab table had been pushed back creating a large open space and another crimson sheet had been spread on the floor along with several more pillows. T'Pol lowered herself down into a sitting position and tugged Trip down to her.

"T'Pol? I don't think this was the kind of exploration the Cap'n had in mind for this mission."

He was on his back before he had finished the statement. T'Pol was already unzipping his coverall when she kissed him.

Trip sat bolt upright in bed, now completely awake. The dream had started out like a memory, but the last part of it hadn't happened. Where had that come from? At the same time, there was something oddly familiar about the images. Trip tried to hold on the fleeting edges of the dream. Had he had that dream before?

As he focused on that thought, he could still see the images playing out in his head. He couldn't make it stop. He felt like a teenager, watching his sister make-out with her boyfriend in the living room when he was supposed to be in bed. Only now there was no curiosity and he didn't want to watch anymore. It was almost painful, but he couldn't make it stop. 

__

T'Pol had begun to moan. They were like animals. This was not about sharing or giving. This was about taking… and they were.

Trip began to sweat. He jumped out of bed, and ran for the shower. He stepped under the freezing spray in his pajamas. Even as he stood under the water, horrified by the display in his brain, he knew that at least part of the dream had at one time been his, possibly even on the very mission. But it had twisted somehow. Then he felt that odd tickling again and knew T'Pol was there, in his head, watching. 

She had manipulated his subconscious desire for her and was now playing it in his head like a sick home movie. Trip jumped out of the shower. He awkwardly stripped off his clothes one handed, changed into a dry shirt and pants and took off down the hall. He didn't bother with the doorbell, but began to pound on the door. There was no answer. 

He reached over and opened the emergency panel beside the door. With a few quick keystrokes, the door opened. Trip raised inside touching the inner panel to close the door behind him. He was already bellowing before it shut.

"I told you to stay out of my…"

But T'Pol didn't seem to hear him. She sat cross-legged on the floor in her red meditation robes. Her eyes were closed and she was panting. Trip fell to his knees in front of her, grabbed her shoulder with his good arm and shook her.

"T'Pol! Wake-up. Wake-up!" And then, he kissed her and the vision stopped. 

T'Pol didn't open her eyes until they had finished. But they were quickly closed again as were Trip's in a deep dreamless sleep.


	6. Decision

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. Originally this story was The Price of Friendship. But I erased that one and am reworking it, piece by piece. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. So far, while there have been some changes to the story, it still runs pretty congruent to the original. Now, on the whole I had to throw everything out, except for some chunks of dialog. I ended up changing a lot and rewriting a lot. Bu one of the first rules of revision is "Kill all your darlings." Happy Reading.

****

ABOVE AND BEYOND FRIENDSHIP

__

By Beeswax

****

Chapter 5: Decision

She was gone when Trip woke up. He shook his head ruefully as he got up off the floor.

"Well at least we didn't break nothin' this time." He said to himself as he picked up his clothing off the floor. As he began to pull them on he noticed several candles on the floor surrounded by splattered wax and a pile of broken glass over in one corner where he thought he remembered seeing a vase before. "Okay, at least we didn't break anymore of me this time."

He was at the door when it opened from the outside. One look at Archer's face and Trip knew it had hit the fan. 

"Good Mornin' Cap'n?" Trip said uncertainly.

Archer stepped into the room and let the door close behind him before he spoke.

"T'Pol is in sick bay suffering from some kind of severe hormone imbalance." There was both accusation and concern in his voice. Trip knew the Captain knew everything.

"Well, sir, I thought I was helping it… I mean she asked me to help and I thought I had only now things are really complicated and I'm in a whole lot of trouble right now, aren't I?"

Archer sat down on the bed and looked up at his friend. "Why didn't she just ask me to take her home?"

Trip slumped into the chair opposite. "She said no one'd take her cause of us and the guy is supposed to be in Fur Pan, in heat or whatever the hell it is and because this was chemically induced…" He sighed. "I offered to fight her. But she said it was too likely she'd kill me." Then more softly, "She almost did anyway."

Archer shuddered.

Trip went on. "Then we ended up connected in the head and she said she was leaving and… Captain she said it was just a one-time thing, only it wasn't. She's been playin' with my head, my memories and then this panic takes over and I had to be with her, to stop her, I thought, only instead we… and I woke up on the floor and you say she's in sick bay with a hormone hangover. I don't understand what is happening. Cap'n, I'm sorry. I really thought I was helping."

Archer pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking, for a moment before he spoke. "Trip, Phlox thinks this is bad. You're right. This wasn't just a one-time thing. Because T'Pol wouldn't really let Phlox do much of an examination the first time, and just assumed this could be handled the normal way, the Doctor says a whole set of biochemical reactions has been set in motion. Further, because T'Pol is now telepathically linked, bonded to an emotional being her brain is even further out of whack. She has to go home to be treated by a Vulcan specialist who can deal with this both on a medical and telepathic level."

Trip slouched further into his chair. 'So she's still leavin'?"

Archer nodded and then added, "and you have to go with her."

"What? But you see what a mess I already made of this whole thing."

"Phlox says until she can get help, the only way to keep her even close to balanced is to cont…."

Now Trip was on his feet. "You can't be serious. Have you seen my shoulder? Do you want me to show you the bruises? The bite marks? And you want me to keep at this?"

"Trip…"

"Besides look at how bad I've already screwed this up. I can't go with her. And…" He was reaching now, "You need me here!"

"Phlox thinks that considering the strength of the bond, you wouldn't be any good to us with out her anyway. Look Enterprise can take you three quarters of the way there. It's only five days further in Shuttlepod 2."

Trip fell back into the chair. "So you're saying I don't have any choice."

Archer shook his head. "Not really. We are already underway. We'll drop you off in three days."

Archer stood up and walked to the door. As it opened he looked back over his shoulder.

"Phlox thinks you should come to sickbay and stay there with T'Pol. He says the two of you… can have his quarters until you need to leave." Archer looked down for a moment, and then added, "There is no one else Trip, you're her only chance." Then he was gone.

Trip just sat quietly in the darkened room until he felt like he had caught his breath and then he got up and went to sickbay.


	7. Holding Pattern

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. Originally this story was The Price of Friendship. But I erased that one and am reworking it, piece by piece. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. So far, while there have been some changes to the story, it still runs pretty congruent to the original. Now, on the whole I had to throw everything out, except for some chunks of dialog. I ended up changing a lot and rewriting a lot. Bu one of the first rules of revision is "Kill all your darlings." Happy Reading.

****

ABOVE AND BEYOND FRIENDSHIP

__

By Beeswax

****

Chapter 6: Holding Pattern

T'Pol knew that he had entered sickbay, even though she couldn't see him. She felt hot all over, but Doctor Phlox had tucked her in so tightly she couldn't move her arms to pull back the covers. Now she could hear him, in the room, coming toward her. She twitched her nose because she couldn't scratch it. She closed her eyes before he pulled back the curtain; maybe he wouldn't wake her. The she felt him reach down, gently scratch her nose and pull back her blankets.

"I know yer not asleep." He said matter of factly. 

She looked up at him and then pulled herself into a sitting position. "You do not have to come with me. I can go to Vulcan by myself."

"Not what Doc says."

"He is not a Vulcan doctor."

"Not a human one, neither, but he's done fine so far."

"I did not wish to involve anyone in this problem."

"Too late to worry 'bout that now."

"You have no desire to go. You said I injured you, will continue to injure you."

"Should have known you could hear us. Yeah, you did and you probably will again, but I can take it. This time wasn't as rough, must be getting' used to it."

"You do not care for my presence."

"Don't much care for any Peepin' Tom in my brain, but that's nothin' 'gainst you and ya know that."

"But I did this to you."

"You needed help, 'saida would."

"You had no concept of the actual need or consequences of it."

"Tha's what friends are fer? Look, T'Pol none of that stuff matters now. The thing is, I offered, you took me up on't and now we're in overtime. Doc says we can stay at his place."

"You do not have to do this."

"Yeah, I do. 'Sides if we wait too long you'll start runnin' pornos in my head again and I'd rather not."

He wrapped his arm around her small shoulders and pulled her off the biobed toward him. When her feet were securely on the floor he held her tight against him as they walked toward the doctor's room. Halfway there, T'Pol dropped her head down onto Trip's shoulder and reached her arm up behind his waist. The squeeze was very gentle and only for a second, but Trip got the message. His touch was gentle as he helped her into bed. Together they could make this okay. 


	8. Returning

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. Originally this story was The Price of Friendship. But I erased that one and am reworking it, piece by piece. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. So far, while there have been some changes to the story, it still runs pretty congruent to the original. Now, on the whole I had to throw everything out, except for some chunks of dialog. I ended up changing a lot and rewriting a lot. Bu one of the first rules of revision is "Kill all your darlings." Happy Reading.

ABOVE AND BEYOND FRIENDSHIP

By Beeswax

Chapter 7: Returning

The Vulcan officers of the P'Taun were not particularly friendly. T'Pol never left their quarters. Trip would bring her her meals and anything else she needed. She said it was because of her condition. It was improper for her to be out and about. Trip knew it was shame.

At first it bothered, him, but as he saw how rigid the social structure was on the ship, he had begun to understand. 

Sometimes, she was herself, and she would be very cool and sober in her demeanor. Other times she was manic and unlike anything he had ever seen before. This was what her emotionless exterior contained. This was T'Pol unbound. 

During those times, Trip tried to hold her while she carried on, tried to sooth her with his touch and then eventually his kiss. But he could tell she was getting worse. The longer this went on, the worse it was. She was losing her hold on logic and it was destroying her. 

Trip prayed that they would get to her planet in time and that someone could help her.


	9. Cure

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I'm just playing with it for a while. 

Author's Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. Originally this story was The Price of Friendship. But I erased that one and am reworking it, piece by piece. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility. So far, while there have been some changes to the story, it still runs pretty congruent to the original. Now, on the whole I had to throw everything out, except for some chunks of dialog. I ended up changing a lot and rewriting a lot. Bu one of the first rules of revision is "Kill all your darlings." Happy Reading.

****

ABOVE AND BEYOND FRIENDSHIP

__

By Beeswax

****

Chapter 8: Cure

"So you can help her?"

"Yes, I believe there is still time to sever the link and restore T'Pol's sanity."

"Great, then let's do it!"

The Vulcan mystic looked up at Trip from the meditation pallet. He squinted slightly in what almost seemed and emotional response to the human's plea. He held out his hand, indicating the pallet before him where T'Pol already rested, nearly comatose, but upright. She leaned toward Trip in an automatic response to his proximity and Trip reached his arm around her shoulder pulling her closer.

The mystic took in all of this with out speaking. But at Trip's gesture he raised an eyebrow and Trip immediately dropped his arm.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course I'm sure. What kinda stupid question is that? This is killing her!"

"Yet she lives."

"This is not the T'Pol I know. She can't handle my humanity, my emotions and repress her own too. You said you can fix this, cut the tie."

"I said I could sever the link, but there is no way of knowing if that will, as you say, fix the problem. The damage may be too severe."

Trip felt the panic creeping into his heart, but he forced it back down. This had to work.

"So let's quit yappin' and do it already. Can't be any worse than it is now."

"If you are certain."

"Damn straight."

"Close your eyes and relax." The mystic raised his hands and placed one on Trip's face and then T'Pol's. T'Pol began to mumble softly in Vulcan and Trip felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect. In his mind he saw a flowing purple cable with himself and T'Pol on either end. The mystic stood in the gap between with a knife in his hand. Trip heard his raspy voice speaking in Vulcan, though he understood it all as if it was in English.

__

What is done shall be undone

What is one shall be two

What is joined shall be separated

Two minds, two souls

With the knife, the mystic began to saw at the cable. Trip felt a searing pain in his mind, like nothing he had ever felt before. As the pain built he began to shout, scream for it to stop. The over his own pain, he heard T'Pol's pleading, both in Vulcan and English.

"Please stop. Please Stop! No, I need him, please stop!"

Trip tried to open his eyes and get away, but the mystic held him. T'Pol's pleas grew louder as the cord slowly began to fray under the serrated edge of the knife. When Trip could stand it no longer he reached out with his mind, giving a mighty pull. The mystic was thrown back, disappearing into nothingness. T'Pol came flying toward him, arms outstretched and as Trip grabbed her and pulled her close, he felt the cord wrapping around them, binding them together. The cord began to glow until soon both he and T'Pol were completely engulfed in a bright purple light. 

"Open your eyes." The mystic commanded from somewhere far away. Trip fought to open his eyes. He felt T'Pol's head resting on his shoulder and as his eyes finally began to obey his mind he saw that he was embracing her and that while her eyes were closed, her face was peaceful for the first time since this whole mess had started.

He looked over at the mystic.

"We are still connected?"

"Yes."

"But she is better?"

"Yes."

"I don't get it."

For s split second Trip could have sworn the old man smiled. But then that perception passed.

"You both needed to embrace the link in order for her to be able to control her emotions. The cure was not separation but acceptance of oneness."

"But we are too different. This won't work."

"You fought to hard to keep her to believe that." He paused. "So did she."

Trip hugged T'Pol closer. 

"What happens now?"

"That is for you both to decide. Now that your mate is balanced again, she will have the strength to separate herself from you, if that is what you both choose to do. Or you could stay bonded."

"But she can't handle my emotions."

"She could not accept the connection, nor could you. That has been remedied."

"Why isn't she awake?"

"Both of you need to rest. She may sleep for several days. But the fever has left her."

Trip bent forward and brushed his lips over her forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch and had lost the greenish tinge that had been with her constantly for the last week. At his touch T'Pol burrowed deeper into his arms. Trip sighed. 

This hadn't been the cure he had in mind.


End file.
